The Past, Seoul

I met Jang Yun Seo a few years after my mother died.

The year she died had been the hardest of my life up to that point, but life after she was gone proved to be even worse than watching her suffer. Instead of her treatments and increasingly bad news, we had to grapple with the reality that we’d never see her smile again or benefit from her wisdom. My father was a wreck afterward, his already poor habits around financial decisions and practical concerns spiraling out of control until we were so deep in debt he couldn’t see his way out of the pit he had created.

Chan Wook took care of the daily chores like household maintenance, cooking and keeping mother’s plants alive while I did my best to get our finances under control. Things improved when I graduated high school and dad went back to work at the university because he had something to distract him from his despair and I had more time to earn money, but dad continued to make bad financial decisions at a rate that outstripped my ability to pay down our debt. Chan Wook wanted to find a part time job to help, but he was still in high school and had much better chances of succeeding in college than I did, so I told him to stay focused on school and that soon enough he would be earning more than the rest of us combined.

My most lucrative job was at a neighborhood Chinese restaurant. I’d started working there while I was still in school and knew all the regulars by name. Most of them lived in the neighborhood, but the food was good enough to attract a few people beyond. Rarely did anyone with real wealth walk through the door, but I could tell Park In Ho had money the first time I saw him. His first visit was with a local, but then he became a regular, coming every first Friday of the month thereafter like clockwork, him, his wife and young child. They would always request the same booth near the fish tank, a table that was generally in my section, and the child would stare at the fish with wide eyes while they ate. Since he always wore an expensive suit and looked effortlessly put together, I at first assumed Park was a businessman, but then I saw him on the news one day speaking on behalf of a client and learned that he was a corporate lawyer, a shock since the kind of people he defended wouldn’t even notice that someone like me existed.

Then suddenly Park and his family stopped coming at all.

When he finally returned six months later, he was alone, haggard and unshaven, his hair long in the back as if he’d forgotten to get it cut. I offered him the booth by the fish tank but he asked for a small table on the other side of the room. The table wasn’t in my section, but I volunteered to take his meal to him when it was ready, curious about what had happened and worried when I noticed the stain on his white shirt as he picked up his chopsticks. Divorce was the obvious explanation, but he still wore his wedding ring and the haunted look in his eyes suggested something much worse. His wife had always been lovely and would ask me about school, listening closely to my answers as if she actually cared. I hoped she was okay but I was afraid to ask and find out something had happened to her.

“Thanks,” Park said in a rough voice, his gaze flicking up at me before focusing on the bruise on my neck. “What happened?”

I reached up to cover the bruise out of habit, but stopped myself halfway. “I wrecked my bike,” I replied. “Took a turn too fast.”

A smile tugged at his lips, but his expression was still so melancholy that the smile couldn’t manage to do more than reflect a hint of amusement. “Those things are death traps, you know.” Something about the wry twist of his lips made me think he had a bike of his own, or had at least owned one at some point in his life.

I thought about my reason for buying a motorcycle, the idea that it would be cheap transportation between home, school and my part-time jobs – even though that had proven not to be as true as I’d expected – and then I considered the true reason I had bought it instead of taking public transportation. I’d wanted to feel the speed, to play with the idea of pushing boundaries. I’d taken on so many responsibilities that the idea of freedom even for such fleeting moments had been irresistible even if it came along with danger – perhaps because it was dangerous. Sometimes the idea of escape was intoxicating.

“Not if you know how to drive them,” I protested. “But not everyone on the road drives safely.” And that was the truth. My accident had happened because of another driver who cut me off and gave me no room to maneuver out of the way.

Park nodded thoughtfully as he took a bite and chewed it mechanically, not seeming to even taste the food before swallowing. “You’re that safe of a driver?”

I shrugged. “I don’t like the idea of endangering other people’s lives,” I replied, not mentioning that when I was alone on empty streets late at night I was far less careful.

“How mature,” Park said with a dry chuckle, playing with his food more than he was eating it. “I came in here yesterday and you weren’t here. I thought maybe you’d gotten a new job.”

“Yesterday?” I shook my head, surprised that he’d been looking for me. “I was working one of my part-time jobs then.”

“One of your part-time jobs?” Park repeated, arching an eyebrow. “How many jobs do you have?”

Shaking my head, I started to back away from the table in embarrassment. Even if he was obviously less kempt than usual, In Ho was clearly in a class far above my own. “Three. It’s no big deal.”

“Aren’t you in college?”

I hesitated, thrown off by that question in the way I always was even though I was old enough that I should have graduated by now. I could have gone to college if I’d really wanted to. My father got a tuition discount at the university where he taught, but I had been more concerned with paying down our debts and giving Chan Wook an opportunity to go to school instead. Chan Wook was far brighter than I was and would get more out of the experience I was sure. Even with the discount, dad couldn’t afford to pay for both of us and I wasn’t smart enough to get enough scholarships to do more than bury us in even deeper debt.

“You aren’t,” In Ho concluded by my silence. “Nothing wrong with that. There are many ways to make a living.” Putting down his chopsticks, he leaned an elbow on the table and pointed a finger at me. “In fact, I know someone who’s looking for a driver. It’s easy work and he pays ridiculously well. You probably could quit all of your other jobs and still make far more than you’re making now.”

“What’s the catch?” I asked, fiddling with the seam of my apron where it was starting to fray.

“Well…” Park shrugged. “He’s an entitled asshole, but I’m sure you’ve had your share of difficult customers if you’re working that much.”

Nodding, I thought back on a few choice occasions where I’d had to escort someone out the door or take their verbal abuse only to get stiffed on my tip. Once I’d even been punched by an angry customer. I didn’t work at that place anymore, but not because I’d quit. They’d let me go because they’d been afraid of retaliation. I suspected that I would have had legal recourse for that, but I hadn’t cared enough to pursue anything. I couldn’t afford representation anyway.

“I might be interested,” I admitted.

Feeling around in his pockets, Park pulled out a phone and swiped a few times before putting it down on the table between us. “Put your number in there. I’ll talk to my friend and set something up.”

I stared at his phone for a while in confusion, wondering why he would do something like this for me, a waiter he barely knew.

Sighing, Park pulled another item out of his rumpled jacket, a business card, and offered it to me. “This is me,” he said. “Park In Ho.”

I already knew his name from his credit card, but I didn’t say anything. I simply took his card and noted the high quality cardstock and the familiar name of one of the country’s most prestigious law firms. “Ri Sang Kyu,” I said, pocketing the card and picking up his phone to enter my number. “Thanks.”

“Sure.” Park took the phone and looked at it before tucking it away again. “You look like you could use a bit of luck.”

“So do you,” I said before I could think better of it, flushing a little when I realized what I’d said.

To my shock, Park laughed and nodded, his eyes so sad that my chest ached in immediate sympathy. “Oh, I’m the luckiest guy you’ll ever meet. That’s why I’m sharing some of my luck with you.”

Weeks passed and I forgot the encounter. I put Park In Ho’s business cards on my bedside table and got lost in the grind of work and sleep along with brief interactions with my father and Chan Wook when our schedules aligned. Father was obsessed with a grant-funded project at work and Chan Wook was busy studying for entrance exams so our paths rarely crossed these days.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

I didn’t recognize Park’s phone number when he called since I’d never bothered to enter it into my phone, and I was about to let the call go to voicemail but something made me answer on the last ring even though the only people who ever called me other than my family were debt collectors. “Hello?”

“Ri Sang Kyu?”

“Yes.”

“Park In Ho. Your favorite customer.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that. “Oh! Good to hear from you.”

“Are you free? My friend wants to meet you. In fact, he needs a ride right now. Can you pick him up at the Imperial Palace Hotel in thirty minutes?”

“On my bike?” I asked with a laugh.

“Of course not. His car is valet parked. He’s been drinking and needs a ride.”

I sighed, having second thoughts since I’d worked as a designated driver for a while and knew exactly what I was in for with a drunk passenger, but the fact that someone so entitled would actually be responsible about not driving under the influence intrigued me. Judging the time and distance between me and the fancy Gangnam hotel, I tried to decide if it was even possible for me to make it there in time. Then I remembered the late payments on my mother’s hospital bills. “How much is he paying?”

Park’s answer sent me running down the hall and pulling on my shoes while I hurried out the front door. “I’ll do it.”

“Great. His name is Jang Yun Seo. I’ll send you his details in a text.” That name sounded familiar but I couldn’t figure out why.

“I’m on my way now. Thanks, again.”

It was still early enough that I could take public transit to the hotel, but I knew I’d never make it in time, so I took my bike and left it in a lot nearby, driving back roads too fast and taking risks I wouldn’t normally take to avoid traffic. The richer someone was, the less tolerant they were of delays so I knew I had to be there on time if I wanted to get the full payment Park had quoted.

Walking up to the glittering front entrance of the hotel in my worn jeans and t-shirt made me feel incredibly out of place and I wished I had thought to change before taking off, but I held my head high and didn’t flinch when the man talking with an obviously irritated valet turned to look at me with a piercing gaze, no less intense in spite of his obvious inebriation. He was wearing a tuxedo that fit him like a glove and his hair was so carefully coiffed that it barely twitched, even when he tilted his head with skepticism to look at me.

“Legally, I can’t stop you from driving,” the valet was saying, “so you can take the keys at any time.”

“I can, but I told you I wouldn’t. Are you tired of keeping me company? Here I thought we were becoming friends but you only want to get rid of me.” Jang Yun Seo’s words slurred only slightly, but he was leaning against the column behind him with a telltale slant.

“No, sir, of course not,” the valet said with hands fluttering in the air with anxiety, “but if you want to continue waiting, perhaps you would be more comfortable inside?”

“I’m here to drive him,” I said, a little breathless from my rush to get there in time, bowing fluidly to them both as I caught my breath.

The man in the tuxedo looked down at his wrist to consult a watch that probably cost more than our house. “You’re late,” he said.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket I verified that I was still on time according to my reckoning and held it up to show him the timer still running with two minutes to spare. “I was told thirty minutes,” I replied.

A slow smile bloomed across generous lips and he nodded. Patting the valet on the shoulder, he said, “You can give him the keys.”

I took the keys from the valet and noted the make of the car, something European that was obscure and elite enough I didn’t recognize the logo. I wasn’t surprised to find that the car itself was sleek and sporty, something that belonged in a grand prix rather than on the streets of Korea. I’d never driven anything like it before and was a little nervous about how difficult it would be to control.

“It’s polite to introduce yourself,” Jang Yun Seo said as he wove along beside me on our way to the car.

“Ri Sang Kyu,” I said with another bow.

He inclined his chin in acknowledgement, and there was something about the way he looked at me that made me feel naked and exposed. He was beautiful, I realized, startlingly so, with the bone structure and physique of a model and perfectly aligned features that made me want to stare at him until I’d mapped every detail. I didn’t get distracted by appearances very often, but Jang Yun Seo had an otherworldly quality that was almost magnetic.

“In Ho said you’re a good driver,” he drawled as I opened the passenger door for him. There wasn’t a back seat, so he would be sitting right beside me, close enough to touch. And smell. In addition to the scent of extravagant alcohol on his breath, his cologne was distracting, a combination of florals and musks that brought to mind sense memories that seemed vulgar for someone so refined. “I guess we’ll see,” he added before slumping into the seat, his words smooth as honey while his movements were barely controlled.

Closing the door gently, I walked around the sweeping lines of the car with butterflies in my stomach, doing my best to mask my anxiety as I settled into the driver’s seat and adjusted everything to fit my taller frame. I felt a little cramped in the vehicle even after I’d put everything in place, the space small and close and his attention so focused on me that I could feel it like a tangible weight on the side of my head.

“Where are we headed?” I asked without looking at him.

He leaned forward to call up an address on the console’s screen, his hand brushing over mine on the gear shift as he sat back. His fingers were surprisingly rough, not the touch I had expected from such manicured hands. I glanced at him and regretted the action when I saw his little grin and the way his eyes glittered in the dark, reflecting the lights from the hotel’s facade like faerie fire.

I put the car into gear and lurched forward, shocked by the power in the gas and inspiring a darkly amused laugh from my passenger, but I quickly adjusted to the car’s handling. I’d done valet work for a while and test driven a lot of cars – none anywhere close to this caliber – but I knew enough about driving to know how to be gentle with the pedals and adjust quickly to the way a car responded.

The address he’d given me was on the outskirts of the city, so we had to take highways and curving country roads that twisted and tangled into the mountains to reach a palatial estate perched at the edge of a cliff. The property wasn’t large enough to be connected to one of the traditional chaebol families, but even if Jang Yun Seo came from new money, the mansion made it obvious that his family had more than enough wealth to live like one. He directed me into a monstrous garage filled with vehicles every bit as expensive as the one I was driving and I held my breath as I drove between them, imagining the debt I could add to my name by accidentally colliding with one.

Putting the car in park, I finally released my breath and glanced at Jang Yun Seo, surprised to see how lucid he looked now. He was watching me with a smile twitching his lips, his eyes twinkling with mischief as they crinkled at the edges.

“You took some of those curves a little fast, don’t you think?” he asked, his words crisp and sharp.

“Did I?” I asked with feigned innocence, knowing he was right but also choosing not to be ashamed of how much fun driving a car like this around mountain roads could be.

Pressing his lips together, he nodded slowly. “But you handled him well otherwise. Better than most.” He stroked a hand fondly over the dashboard as he added, “He’s temperamental for even the best of drivers.” The fact that he used gendered pronouns to refer to the car was odd since such a thing was easily avoidable in Korean, but what was even odder was that he referred to the car as male. Usually men anthropomorphized their vehicles as female and this often came across as either misogynistic or vaguely sexual. I wondered what he intended in this situation. Was he trying to tell me something about his own preferences? Or was I simply projecting my own desire?

Regardless, he was speaking so clearly now and with such obvious intent that it seemed obvious his drunkenness had been nothing more than an act meant to lower my guard. He’d been drinking, certainly, but he was far too sober now to be as drunk as he’d seemed to be when I first met him. Had this all been a test? Had he called me out at the last minute and feigned inebriation so that he would seem like an easy mark when he was really giving me a difficult car to drive on winding roads to see how I held up under the stress?

“I suppose you’re waiting for your payment,” he said, pulling a wallet out of the inner pocket of his suit and retrieving bills of a denomination I’d rarely seen singly let alone in a stack. “I’d like to hire you for a week and we’ll see how you do.” His nose wrinkled as he gave me a once over and handed over the money. “I’m including an advance you can use to buy some more presentable clothes. I have an appointment tomorrow morning. Pick me up here at nine.”

Taking the money and tucking it carefully into my pocket, I swallowed my unspoken protest, deciding I could call in sick to my part-time job for the morning rather than quitting right away in case things didn’t work out. But even if I lost the job, I was making more with this advance than I did in two months at the cafe. Looking up to meet his eyes again, I lifted the keys, doubting he actually expected me to drive the sportscar anywhere without him in it. He had said to pick him up, but I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to get home now. It was late enough now that public transit had shut down and a taxi out to somewhere this remote was going to be expensive. I had plenty of cash on hand because of him, but I didn’t want to waste so much of it so quickly.

Jang Yun Seo took the keys and got out of the car so I followed his example, looking around the garage in awe at all the shiny polished vehicles and fighting the urge to roll my eyes. Everywhere a car to drive but none to take me home.

“Here,” he said, walking around the car to me without so much as a waver in his balance, his leather shoes clicking against the concrete with every step. He was holding out another key, this one to a BMW and I took it with a frown. “You can take the one on the end,” he said nodding to an unassuming black car near the exit that looked more functional than beautiful but likely cost almost as much as the sportscar.

“I can’t park that in my neighborhood,” I said, shaking my head.

“Then leave it at the hotel. You have to pick up your bike anyway, right?”

A laugh escaped my lips before I could catch it.

“In Ho said you’d wrecked it. You must have gotten it fixed pretty quickly.”

“I got hurt more than the bike,” I admitted.

He nodded thoughtfully, amusement still flickering in his eyes. “Ri Sang Kyu, right? I think we’re going to get along just fine.”

Looking away from his intense gaze, I shrugged. “I should be getting home.”

“See you tomorrow.”

He turned away with a wave, and my eyes lingered on his back as he walked toward the house entrance, tracing the narrow cut of his hips and the proud angle of his shoulders. I found myself wanting to follow him for no reason I could explain. I’d never felt that way about anyone before, like I was somehow diminished in his absence, the room emptier and darker without his larger-than-life presence filling all the space.

An easy job, Park In Ho had called it. I wasn’t sure how easy it would be in reality, but I knew I wanted it. Badly.